


Brian And The Unicorn

by Brian L (Iggy_McBabyface)



Category: Creepypasta - Fandom, Marble Hornets
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - Magical Girls, Blood and Gore, Brian being Brian, Dudes in dresses, M/M, Unicorns, Violence, rants about ties
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-13
Updated: 2019-05-13
Packaged: 2020-03-02 08:31:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,114
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18807511
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Iggy_McBabyface/pseuds/Brian%20L
Summary: It was supposed to be a quiet and relaxing weekend at his cabin, but an unexpected guest turns Brian's life upside down.





	1. Cover

**Author's Note:**

> This was inspired by a conversation I had with [Eggplantouma](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Eggplantouma), so she deserves credit for this craziness.


	2. Brian And The Unicorn

It’s a beautiful, clear day, a soft breeze rustling majestic trees. Birds chirp, little animals flitting from branch to branch, carnivorous hunters slinking through the underbrush. The idyllic silence of the forest is only disturbed by a young, blonde man walking along a small trail, wood and leaves crunching under his shoes. He’s humming a happy tune, blue eyes half closed, arms loosely dangling by his sides.

Brian travels this trail a lot, knows the way by heart by now. When he reaches his destination, a clearing with a little wooden hut in the middle, he pauses. The once proud oak that used to stand next to the hut is snapped in half, leaves and branches burnt, the ground around it scorched. There’s a small crater, still smoking and filled with burning tree splinters. ‘Maybe an angel fell from the sky.’ he wonders. Chuckling he dismisses the thought and walks up to the hut.

He’s about to rummage his pocket for the keys, when he notices the door is slightly ajar. His eyebrows crease in worry. He searches his person for weapons and only comes up with a wrench. He must have accidentally pocketed it when he helped his cousin with her car. ‘It’ll have to do.’ he decides and enters.

The door creaks upon being moved, but there’s no reaction inside the house so he presses onward. The first thing Brian notices are silvery puddles, covered in a rainbow sheen, on the carpet in the front hall. They form a trail that continues through the main room, to the open cellar door and down the stairs. The door at the bottom of the stairs is ajar, revealing a small colourful room.

The floor is covered by a fluffy pastel pink carpet, the walls painted baby blue. On the back wall there’s a big poster of a yellow unicorn eating a popsicle next to a shelf housing several cute unicorn and fairy figurines. In the middle of the room stands a big sofa, which takes up almost all the space available. It’s hot pink, covered by a colourful blanket Brian knitted himself and usually several unicorn plushies sit on it.

Right now, though, they are lying on the floor, carelessly thrown off by the person currently occupying it. They are lying with their back towards Brian, their breathing laboured, a soft pink blanket covering their figure. The silver trail leads up to that person, a glittering puddle having formed on the carpet next to the sofa. The liquid steadily drips from under the cloth.

Brian’s eyes narrow. Who is that person to break into his hut and sully his carpets and sofa? “Hey!” he barks, raising the wrench above his head, ready to strike.

The housebreaker flinches, almost falling off the piece of furniture. Slowly the person sits up, groaning and hissing. They turn their head and Brian’s breathe catches in his lungs. It’s a man, about his own age. His face is soft, eyes big and dark. His hair is dark brown, almost black, and softly falls into his face, parting around a beautiful pearl coloured spiral horn that grows from the middle of his forehead just below the hairline.

“So it is a fallen angel...” Brian breathes, lowering his makeshift weapon.

The man’s face scrunches up in disgust. “Angel?” he scoffs, “I’m not one of those feathery bastards. I’m obviously a unicorn.” He gestures to his horn.

At the movement the cloth he had wrapped around himself falls open, revealing a beige, intricately lace decorated corset hugging his chest.

“A unicorn...” the blonde whispers, “I love unicorns!”

“Really? I wouldn’t have guessed...” the man mutters sarcastically, side eyeing the unicorn memorabilia strewn about the room.

“So, uhm, why did you break into my humble retreat?” Brian asks, ignoring the brunet’s snark.

“I had no choice. I’m wounded and the Operator was going to get me.” The unicorn shuffles uncomfortably, as if embarrassed to admit his weakness.

“You’re wounded? Where? I’ll help you!” 

The blonde immediately jumps into action, dropping the wrench and kneeling before the unicorn. He pulls the blanket, which turns out to be a cape, away from the stranger’s middle to find him pressing a hand to his stomach, it and the corset drenched in the liquid that led Brian here, small silvery droplets dripping from soft fingers to land on the pink frilly skirt he’s wearing. Looks like the liquid that led Brian here is blood. Unicorn blood. And lots of it. He carefully pries the unicorn’s hands away from his middle. There is a large gash across his stomach. The edges are serrated as though it was caused by some kind of claw.

“Okay.” he mutters, “That’ll need stitches.”

“No shit.” The unicorn deadpans.

Brian chooses to ignore the other’s attitude and focuses on helping the brunette instead. He grabs the knitted blanket and presses it onto the wound. “Can you get up? I need to get you to the bathroom.”

Instead of answering the man grasps the blanket to hold it in place and proceeds to push himself up off the sofa, a pained hiss escaping his clenched teeth. He’s unstable on his feet and Brian has to get a hold of his arm to keep him from falling over. Carefully they navigate their way up the stairs.

By the time they finally reach the bathroom the unicorn is panting, his face ashen and hands shaking. It’s obvious that the only thing keeping him from fainting is his sheer stubbornness and Brian can’t help but admire that.

Carefully he sits the man down in the shower cubicle. “I’ll be right back. Just getting some water and painkillers.” he tells him and hurries to the kitchen.

He almost spills water all over the counter in his haste to fill a glass. And then he just narrowly avoids knocking over said glass while getting the bottle of oxycodone from the medicine cabinet. His hands shake with adrenaline and he can’t help but grin like a madman.

Brian still can’t believe it. A real unicorn is in his refuge. He doesn’t look like the blonde imagined unicorns would look like, but still. A real unicorn! A small giggle escapes his lips and he has to take a few seconds to compose himself enough to safely carry the water and pills to the bathroom.

The unicorn is slumped over, trembling hands clutching the blanket to his stomach and breathing heavily. Brian kneels by his side and hands him a pill and the glass of water. The man shakily takes the medicine and gulps down the entire glass of water, not even questioning what Brian gave him.

While his guest is busy, the blonde gets his medical kit from the cabinet and sets it down next to himself. “We’ll have to take off your top.” he tells the unicorn.

The brunet nods, but doesn’t move. Brian leans forward and opens the clasps holding the cape to the white blouse the man’s wearing. Then he unlaces the corset and unbuttons the blouse to free the man’s torso.

“It’ll be a few minutes until the painkillers start working.” he warns the unicorn, “So this’ll hurt a bit.”

Brian hands the brunet his belt to bite down on and then proceeds to clean out the wound and carefully stitch it shut, not for the first time in his life thankful he chose to pursue a medical career. Just as he finishes the third stitch, the man slumps over, finally passed out. The blonde carefully lays him on the floor of the shower cubicle, turning his head sideways, just in case, and continues his work.

When he finally finishes his hands are covered in silvery blood. With a sigh he washes them, cleans the wound again and then bandages it. The wrapping process is cumbersome and annoying, but Brian still makes sure his work is clean and tight.

Seeing as he can’t let the unicorn to sleep in the shower cubicle, Brian carefully, as to not disturb the stitches, lifts the guy up and, man, he is heavy. Judging by his size the blonde would have thought the unicorn to be about the same weight as himself, but carrying him gives him flashbacks to that one time he had to carry his best, and around 50 pounds heavier, friend Alex to the nurses office when the brunette managed to sprain both his ankles by tripping over an open shoelace.

For a moment the blonde contemplates where to let the unicorn rest before he decides to give the man his bed. Brian can survive a night on the sofa, after cleaning off the bloodstains of course, and wounded as he is the unicorn needs a proper rest. Mind made up the blonde slowly and carefully bridal style carries the brunet to his bedroom and lays him down on the bed. He pulls the blanket over the prone body, quietly closes the door and then goes about cleaning up the mess his uninvited guest left.

Of course he grabs the wrench he dropped in favour of helping the unicorn first. There’s someone dangerous out and about in the woods after all. Someone who’s after the brunet.

***

The next morning Brian wakes up with a crick in his back. He ended up not sleeping on the couch since it was wet after cleaning, instead spreading out a blanket and a few pillows on the kitchen floor to rest there. His body does not agree with that decision. Maybe he should have just sucked it up and slept on the wet sofa, but there’s nothing he can do about it now.

A glance at his watch reveals it’s half past five in the morning. With a sigh he gets up and stretches to alleviate at least a little of the pain. His spine pops a few times and while the ache isn’t entirely gone he feels a lot better. Rubbing his eyes he pulls open the curtains. The wood outside is still mostly dark, only a few early morning rays breaking through the foliage, a few early birds chirping their songs. A squirrel darts from one tree to the next and then vanishes into the wood.

Brian switches on the coffee machine and is about to start brewing himself a cup when he remembers his guest. Maybe he should ask him if he wanted a cup as well. He makes his way over to the bed room and quietly knocks. A grunted “Yes.” reveals the occupant to be awake.

When he enters the room, Brian’s eyes fall on the unicorn sitting up in bed, guardedly looking at him. The blonde almost squeals at how cute that worried crease between the man’s eyebrows looks. He clears his throat to regain his composure and asks the brunet whether he wants breakfast.

The unicorn’s chapped lips part in surprise, eyes widening fractionally. For a few seconds the man’s jaw works before he finally pulls himself together enough to mutter: “Breakfast?”

The brunet looks so adorable that Brian decides to tease him a little. “Yeah.” he smirks, “You know. The meal you eat in the morning.”

The man scowls. “I know what breakfast is. I’m just… confused. Why are you offering to feed me? I broke into your home and messed up your floors and couch. If I was you I’d throw me out.”

“Haha. I thought about it,” he didn’t, “but you’re too cute to throw out.”

Disbelieve flashes across the brunet’s face before his eyes narrow. “Don’t patronize me…” he mutters, lips drawn into an annoyed frown.

“I’m not patronizing you.” Brian assures the unicorn and then motions for the door, “Sooo. Breakfast?”

The brunet heaves a sigh and opens his mouth to answer, when his stomach does for him, growling loudly. Brian grins and offers the man a hand to help him get up. The brunet huffs in annoyance and bats the appendage away. He carefully gets up, groaning and shaking in pain. By the time he’s finally standing, he’s drenched in sweat, pale as a sheet and his legs tremble so badly Brian’s afraid he’ll keel over.

For a few seconds they just stand there, looking at each other. The unicorn’s laboured breathing is the only sound in the room. Brian’s eyes follow a droplet of sweat that runs down the brunet’s throat, over his bare torso, to be caught by the bandages around his midsection. He notices goose bumps covering the man’s flesh.

“You should probably put on a shirt.” Brian remarks and when he sees the man’s lips twist into a look of disgust, he adds, “So you don’t get sick. It’s kinda cold.” To emphasise his point the blonde rubs his upper arms as though he was trying to keep warm.

“Where are my clothes?” the unicorn asks, an unimpressed look on his face.

“Still in my bathroom. I wasn’t sure what to do with them. The corset and blouse are ripped and I have no idea what material that cape is made of, so I didn’t dare wash it.” Brian apologetically shrugs.

The brunet doesn’t verbally react to that, instead taking a shaky step in the direction of the door. He almost manages to exit the room before he stumbles. Fortunately Brian was ready and catches him, which earns him a death glare.

The blonde raises an eyebrow at the man’s stubbornness. Usually that’s a trait he admires, but right now it’s just frustrating. And dangerous. In his quest to do everything on his own, the unicorn could very well rip open his stitches. And Brian tells him exactly that.

With a pout the brunet gives up and lets Brian help him to the bathroom, where he immediately grabs his corset. Then the man closes his eyes in concentration. The unicorn’s horn starts glowing in beautiful rainbow colours. At first it’s faint and Brian wonders if he’s just imagining things, but soon it gets brighter and more noticeable. And then it suddenly stops.

The brunet sets the corset aside and takes the blouse. Once again his horn starts glowing. A little confused Brian looks down at the blouse to see the gash that had been ripped into the fabric closing and disappearing as though it had never been there to begin with.

So apparently the silver bleeding, skirt and cape wearing unicorn in his refuge can do magic. Brian is more surprised than he probably should be. His surprise turns to concern when he notices the brunet’s pallor has become ashen, hands shaking so badly he almost drops the blouse he’s trying to put on.

“Here. Let me help you.” Brian carefully takes the blouse from the unicorn’s grasp and holds it out for him to put on.

The brunet doesn’t even protest, apparently too tired to insist on doing everything alone. Instead he shakily slips into the garment and lets Brian close the buttons and fix the corset around his waist afterwards. He weakly tries to reach for the cape, but he stumbles and has to lean onto the blonde for balance. Brian is shocked at how cold the man’s skin feels. Quickly he grabs the cape and wraps it around his shoulders, fixing the clasps to the blouse.

“Come on. Let’s get some food into you.” he says and leads the unicorn to the kitchen. To get to the table they have to navigate around Brian’s makeshift bed and he makes a mental note to clean it up later.

He helps the brunet sit down on the bench at the table. “Since I wasn’t planning for guests I don’t have much in terms of variety. Just a few different kinds of cereal. And as for drinks I have coffee… or coffee.”

Heavily leaning onto the table the unicorn glances up at him. His breathing is starting to calm down and he’s shaking less than before. “Cereal is fine. I don’t care what kind. And coffee would be… nice…” he mutters, eyes drooping.

Brian nods to indicate his understanding and sets about making two cups of caffeinated goodness. While the coffee machine works he pours two bowls of cereal from a box he grabbed at random. After grabbing the milk and depositing it on the table he turns back to his guest. “Do you want sugar in your coffee?” he asks to which the unicorn barely noticeably shakes his head.

Once they’re sat across from each other, eating their cereal, which turns out to be lucky charms, go figure, and sipping from their cups, Brian takes the opportunity to ask a few questions. Of course the most important one comes first: “My name’s Brian. And you are?”

“Tim…” The brunet’s answer is quiet, his attention focussed mostly on the tasks of eating and drinking.

“And that Operator guy you mentioned. He the one who ripped your stomach open?”

A nod and a wince. “He doesn’t particularly like unicorns. I think it’s some kind of game to him. Hunting and killing us.” Tim frowns around the spoon in his mouth.

“What a dick.” Brian proclaims, “Hunting unicorns is a crime against nature.” He’s genuinely angry at the thought of someone daring to try and destroy something so beautiful and amazing. If he ever gets his hands on that Operator person he’s going to end them.

A tired chuckle distracts him from his musings. “It’s the Operator’s fashion sense that’s a crime against nature.”

“Oh? He wear a leopard print jumpsuit?” Brian smirks, imagining a wrinkly old man with a huge hook nose, because what else kind of person would call themselves ‘the Operator’, wearing the mentioned garment.

“No.” Tim almost sounds offended at that suggestion, “Even worse. He’s wearing a tie. A tie! What kind of person wears a tie?!”

The blonde almost bursts out laughing at how indignant the unicorn sounds about something as simple as a tie. “Businessmen?” he proposes, raising his eyebrows.

“Exactly! No magical person with self respect would ever be caught wearing something as despicable as a tie.” The brunet lets out a disgusted huff and takes a sip of his coffee.

Brian giggles. To see someone this offended by ties of all things is kind of hilarious. Hearing that, Tim shoots him a venomous glare. “Do you think that’s funny? Are you a tie sympathiser by any chance? Do you wear ties?!”

“Not unless I have to.” Brian shrugs, “They’re not exactly my favourite piece of clothing, but they have their place.”

Tim’s eyes comically widen. “You wear them? Next you’re going to tell me that they look good with a dress.”

Brian’s brows furrow. “No?” he says, surprised, “They belong with suits?”

For a few long seconds they stare at each other, neither uttering a word. Then Tim sighs. “At least you don’t wear ties with dresses. I’d have to kill you if you did…” he mutters under his breath and furiously shovels the last of his cereal into his mouth.

“This is very serious for you, isn’t it? If it makes you feel any better, if I had the choice I wouldn’t wear ties. Ever.” The blonde smiles at his guest and finishes his own breakfast. The unicorn glances at him and reluctantly nods his acceptance, fiddling with his now empty cup.

To prevent an awkward silence from overtaking them, Brian offers the brunet seconds. The unicorn gladly accepts, looking relaxed again.

***

After they finish breakfast and Brian cleans the kitchen, the blonde helps Tim back to his bed. Then he gets his study materials from his backpack and sits at the table to read a paper on genomics. He’s about five pages in when a strange noise disturbs him. It sounds like something is scratching the wooden side of the hut just below the kitchen window. As soon as he looks up it stops.

With a shrug he dismisses it as an animal. Probably a lost cat or something. Once he refocuses on the paper the scratching starts again. He freezes. For some reason his heart starts to beat wildly in his chest and his hands tremble. He swallows hard. Listening closely he realizes that the noise is too loud and too evenly paced to be caused by a cat. Or any other animal he knows of for that matter.

Only now, as he strains his ears for any clue as to what could be the cause of the noise does he notice that other than the scratching everything has become dead silent. There’s no chirping of birds or rustling of animals in the underbrush. Only the repeated slow scraaatch scraaatch scraaatch from below the window.

With a deep breath he steadies his hands and gets the wrench from where he stored it in his hoodie pocket. He raises it to strike at any moment and carefully creeps over to the window. As he’s getting closer he starts to hear heavy breathing. It’s slow and kind of raspy. Almost human, but not quite. Steeling his resolve Brian leans over the counter and peers out of the window.

He’s met with a pair of glowing white eyes staring back at him.

The creature has crooked bony limbs. Ghostly pale leathery skin stretches over its frame, somehow appearing both too big and too small for its body. The hairless head looks massive on its frail neck and its mouth is agape, a black hole framed by sharp yellowing teeth. Slowly the creature raises one of its arms, revealing a crooked, long fingered hand. It digs its sharp claws into the wood of the hut and pulls down. Scraaatch.

Heart fearfully hammering in his chest, Brian slowly takes a step back, eyes still locked with the creature. It raises its hand again and as the blonde takes a second step back it suddenly jumps up, breaking through the window. Brian just barely manages to avoid the claws swiping at his chest, turns around and runs into the nearest room, banging the door shut behind himself.

Turns out it’s the door to the bedroom which he’s pressing his back against. His entrance must have woken up Tim, since the unicorn is groggily looking at him, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. If there wasn’t some kind of monster outside the room, Brian can hear it pacing, its claws clack clack clacking on the floor, he would gush about how cute the brunet looks.

The pacing outside stops. The door handle jiggles and Brian presses his back against the door harder. There’s pressure, but fortunately the creature isn’t strong enough to gain entrance. Then there’s some more pacing.

Scraaatch. The hairs on Brian’s back stand on end and he almost jumps away from the door. The scratching is coming from directly behind him and in time, he’s sure, the creature will completely rend the wood and get inside, and turn Brian’s back to ribbons while it’s at it, but if he backs away, it’ll be able to immediately open enter.

He frantically looks around until he sees the chair he usually keeps his clothes for the next day on. He tries to reach for it, but his fingers just can’t touch it. The scratching behind him continues. Brian wants to scream in frustration.

Suddenly a pained groan draws his attention. Tim heaves himself up off the bed. On shaky legs the brunet walks over to the chair and pushes it in Brian’s direction. Relieved the blonde grabs the piece of furniture and jams it under the door handle. With a sigh of relieve he sinks to the floor, his fingers shaking uncontrollably.

After a few seconds he turns to Tim to ask him if he’s alright and whether he’s up for fleeing out the window. The brunet is staring at him, almost as if he’s been waiting for Brian to finally pay attention to him. His demeanour is calm and collected. And then it hits Brian.

“Is this the Operator?” he asks, glancing at the door where the creature is still methodically scratching.

Tim shakes his head. “No. But it’s one of his minions. It’s called the Rake.”

Brian furrows his brows. “One of his… So there’s more…” He feels a shiver going down his spine. What has he gotten himself into?

“Yeah. I was one of them.” a wry smile curls the unicorn’s lips, “But not anymore.”

“You betrayed them. They’re never going to stop pursuing you, are they?” Brian can’t help but chuckle hollowly at the predicament. The most likely reason the Rake is here is because it knows about Tim’s whereabouts. That it knows that Brian is harbouring the traitor. “And because I helped you I have a target on my back as well…” he mutters.

“I’m sorry…” Tim sounds broken. He’s biting his bottom lip and his fingers twitch.

A particularly loud scratch interrupts them.

“You can be sorry later.” Brian asserts, “For now we have to find a way out of here.”

Tim fidgets and avoids Brian’s gaze. His fingers twitch some more and he worries his lip so forcefully Brian’s afraid he’ll break the skin. Suddenly he stops, determinedly looking right at the blonde. He holds out his hand in Brian’s direction. His fingers are shaking slightly and his palms look sweaty.

“Promise yourself to me.” he says, a hint of unease tainting his voice.

Brian’s brain short circuits. “What?” is the only thing he can utter.

“Promise yourself to me.” Tim repeats, this time more sure of himself. He extends his hand further into Brian’s direction.

‘This is not the time for this.’ is what the blonde wants to say, but for some reason the words won’t leave his mouth. ‘This is the perfect opportunity to make him mine.’ the primal part of his brain whispers, ‘Let’s take it.’

So, with a small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth, Brian takes the hand. “Okay.” he says, “I promise myself to you.”

Tim’s grip is surprisingly strong for how wounded he is, his skin still ashen and covered in a layer of cold sweat. The unicorn’s hand is soft and warm and, strangely, it’s getting warmer the longer the handshake lasts. Brian tries to pull away to feel the brunet’s forehead to see if he has a fever, but Tim holds on to him fast.

Brian’s palm starts tingling and a strange glow surrounds their joined hands. It’s the same rainbow glow Brian saw when Tim used magic. Looking at the unicorn’s forehead confirms his suspicions. The man’s horn is glowing as well.

The blonde is about to ask Tim what he’s doing, when he feels it. Gentle warmth, starting where they touch, travelling up his arm and spreading throughout his chest. Suddenly all he can see is rainbow colours, surrounding him, engulfing his body. His clothes are gone, but that’s okay.

He can feel Tim’s power embracing him, can feel it manifest on his body as first a yellow bodice, then a yellow, v waist skirt and short poofy sleeves. White tights and knee high laced boots appear on his legs. Yellow cuffs lined with white frill manifest on his wrists, a soft mask covers his face and a hood his hair. The wrench, which he’d been holding with his left, elongates and a yellow crystal appears at the thickest part of the curved top.

And then, just as suddenly as it started, the glowing stops. Brian feels strong. Like he can take on the entire world. And win. His eyes meet Tim’s. The brunet sheepishly smiles at him.

“I’m sorry I had to make you my knight without explaining first. Unfortunately I can’t fight the Rake in my current state.”

A knight, huh? Brian grins. No. Not just a knight. Tim’s knight.

He curiously weighs the changed wrench. Despite being much bigger than before it still has the same weight. “So I can bust the Rake with this thing now?” he asks, questioningly turning his attention to the unicorn.

Tim shrugs. “I don’t know. I only gave you my magic. How it manifests depends on who you are.”

“On who I am…” Brian mutters. What does that even mean? Does it depend on his genes? On his personality? His title? Not that he has a title he knows of.

Before he can ponder the question any more, he hears a sickening crack. He quickly spins around to find the Rake’s glowing white eye staring at him through a gap in the door. The wood has been ripped apart and the creature’s sharp claws are continuously chipping away to widen the gap. A raspy threatening shriek escapes the beast’s maw once it notices his attention on it.

Brian should probably use what little time he has left before the door gives in to find out how the magic Tim gave him works. He should probably think of a strategy on how to beat the beast. But the Rake’s gaze suddenly focuses on the unicorn standing behind him, its black tongue lolling out of its mouth and sliding across its sharp teeth, and something snaps in him.

With an angry shout he charges at the beast and swings at it with the wrench. The metal connects with the creature’s face with a satisfying crunch. The force of the hit is too great for the door to handle and it bursts into tiny pieces, part of the wall cracking and crumbling as well. The Rake’s body is flung back, hitting the other side of the hallway, destroying the panelling.

Brian almost laughs, he’s so giddy at the sight of the Rake lying on the floor in a heap of limbs, its skin cut in several places, leaking viscous dark red, almost black, liquid. At the rush his hands tremble so much the wrench slips for a moment, but fortunately he manages to catch it before it falls.

The creature used his moment of distraction to regain its bearing and Brian just barely manages to evade its claws when it lunges for him again. Unfortunately because of his sidestepping the beast it’s now between him and Tim. The Rake notices that fact a split second before the blonde, charging at the unicorn, whose eyes widen in shock, the brunet bringing his arms up to protect his vital areas, falling off the bed he was sat on in the process.

The creature swings wide, sharp claws cut through the air, but the attack never lands. Just before the Rake’s talons can reach their target, Brian strikes it in the back of its head with the wrench. A sickening crunch echoes throughout the room, the creature’s blood bursting from the wound, droplets covering the blonde’s front.

Thankfully he’s wearing a mask, or this would be kind of nasty. But as it is, it’s exhilarating and this time he can’t hold back. A gleeful laugh escapes his lips, slightly muffled by the cloth covering his face.

Out of the corner of his eye Brian notices the Rake twitching. He really has to get his glee under control or he’ll lose here. A glance at Tim, who’s just sitting on the floor, expressionlessly staring at the creature’s body, gives him the resolve he needs. Biting his lip he suppresses further chuckles from leaving his mouth and strikes the Rake, who is trying to get up, again. And again. And again and again and again and again. He keeps hitting the twitching body until his arms shake with exhaustion. Until his entire body is covered in sweat and dark spots dance in front of his eyes.

Finally he lets up, stumbling back a few steps. His breathing is ragged, muscles twitching with adrenaline. He’s sure there’s a dopey smile on his face and kind of glad that the mask is hiding if from Tim.

Speaking of, the unicorn is still staring at the Rakes broken, writhing body. Slowly the brunet looks up at him, mouth twitching.

“You broke his skull. With your staff.” Tim says. He looks a little shaken.

“Guess I did.” Brian chuckles, “Didn’t really think in that moment.”

Tim tilts his head to the side. “That’s not what I meant. You broke the Rake’s skull! With a single hit! I’ve never seen anyone do that before.”

The blonde furrows his brows. “Okay? So… my magic is super strength is what you’re trying to say?” he asks, stroking his thumb along the side of the wrench.

“I guess…” Tim mutters, “You certainly did a number on-” The unicorn starts gesturing towards where the Rake was only to stop short at noticing the creature gone. Only a big puddle of the creatures viscous blood and a broken off piece of claw tell of it ever being there. That and a symbol drawn in said blood. A crossed out circle. “…the Rake…” the unicorn finishes the sentence he started and sighs, “Looks like he managed to call for help.”

Hearing that Brian immediately goes on the defensive. “ You mean there’s going to be backup to deal with?”

Unexpectedly Tim smiles at him. It’s just a small quirking of the lips, barely noticeable, but it melts the blonde’s insides. ‘This is something to live for.’, he decides. ‘This smile is something I’ll protect with my life.’

“No,” the brunet’s voice shakes him from his stupor, “The Rake’s never been beaten so badly before. The Collective’s gonna regroup before they send another goon.”

Brian relaxes. As his nerves ease and the knowledge that he doesn’t have to fight anymore today sinks in, the dress and mask vanish and he’s back in his old clothes. The wrench in his hand is its normal size again and the only thing proving that something changed is the tiny yellow crystal still embedded at the top. That and the feeling of Tim’s magic, still coursing through his veins.

The blonde’s about to put the tool into his hoodie pocket, when he hears Tim groan as the unicorn tries to get up off the floor. He’s shocked to notice that silvery unicorn blood stains the hands that cover the brunet’s stomach. The man must have pulled his stitches when he tried to get some distance between himself and the Rake. An idea flashes through his mind. No. More like a certainty.

On shaky feet he walks over to the struggling unicorn and kneels before him. “Hey,” he whispers, “don’t strain yourself.” Then he points the wrench turned magical staff at Tim. He looks the man in the eyes and concentrates. He imagines the ripped apart flesh of the unicorn’s stomach pulling together, mending. Thinks of the lost blood being replenished and the man’s energy coming back. Thinks of Tim being whole and happy again. And smiles.

The brunet’s eyes widen. He looks down at himself, opens the corset and blouse to properly see and his mouth opens and closes for a few moments, visibly shocked. A glance at the unicorn’s now mended middle confirms what Brian already knows.

“Y-you healed me…” Tim stutters, “You’re a healer!”

“Nah. Not really.” Brian waves off the notion, “I can only heal you. And Alex, probably.”

Tim’s brows furrow. “Wha- how do you know that? And why would you only be able to heal me? And that Alex guy.”

Brian grins. “Because you’re the only ones that matter.”

At that admission the unicorn turns beet red, gaping, obviously struggling to find a reply. He looks so cute it takes all of Brian’s strength not to violate him right then and there. ‘With time,’ he tells himself, ‘and only with consent.’

“I’m sorry…” Tim’s sudden apology throws Brian for a loop.

“Wha-what for?”

“For making you my knight without properly explaining what that entails … You’ve been kind and helpful all this time and I repay you with my bad attitude and forcing you to be my fighter in a war you aren’t a part of.” The pain in the unicorn’s voice breaks Brian’s heart. He has to fix this. And fast.

“I’m not.” he assures the blonde, “Sorry that is. If you’d properly explained I would’ve said yes. If you ask me again, right now, I’d say yes. I don’t regret promising myself to you and I’d do it over and over again if that’s what you want.”

Tim still looks regretful. He’s biting his bottom lip again, fingers twitching anxiously. Brian takes one of the brunet’s hands and holds it between his own. He gently smiles at the man. “How about this? As an apology you promise yourself to me. Then it’s equal.”

For a few moments the unicorn looks unsure, hand trembling within Brian’s grasp, and the blonde almost fears being rejected. Then Tim becomes very calm and fixes Brian with a sure gaze.

“I promise myself to you.” he says.


End file.
